What Happens in New New York
by MyMusesSpeakToMe
Summary: ... Stays in New New York. Bender makes a certain robotic personification of the devil his barbuddy, but is a little unprepared for the consequences of having Beelzebot as a friend! Rated T for alcohol and Bender's dirty mouth. Can be Slashy if you wish.


Bender tapped his fingers enthusiastically against the table. Neon lights flashed across his metal casing in vibrant reds and blues. The bending unit's cybernetic eyes scanned the activity of the seedy nightclub he has dragged his less-than-impressed companion.

On his left, the infamous Robot Devil swept his tail idly through the air. Beezlebot's cybernetic eyes were half closed, a look of mild disinterest plastered as best it could be on his metallic face.  
>Bender eyed his unlikely companion, a little insulted by the lack of excitement, "Whats with you? This is the best joint in down!" He gestures to the neon lights lacing the club and the<br>nearly all-robot occupants partying it up.  
>RoboSatan snorted, "If you have your heart set on this..." he rotated a metal wrist in the air with a flourish, as if attempting to grasp an appropriate word that was floating above him, "... Local culture, then don't let my opinion stop you."<br>"Ah, shuddup and take that pitchfork out of your USB port!" growled Bender. In a flash of fellowship he ordered two beers from a tentacle-equipped Barbot Unit and pushed one into the claws of the  
>Robot Devil, demanding "Live a little!"<br>The other manbot gave a curious look to the glass before decidedly  
>pushing it away, "I'll pass."<br>"The Hell you will!" Bender said before catching Beezle's look, "Uh, you know what I mean!"  
>"I'm not particularly a fan of alcohol, Bender. I've been rolling around Hell for quite long enough to see the long term affects on <em>certain<em> robots with little self-control."

Bender wondered if the "_certain"_ was aimed at him.

The two manbots sat in silence for several minutes, eyes transfixed on the band playing the floorshow. The Robot Devil, constantly in tune with music around him, tapped his rectangular foot beat for beat with the up tune rhythm.  
>Bender faked a sigh in annoyance, "What? Do'ya want to just get up there and start your own number, or are you finally gonna take your drink?"<br>Beelzebot rolled his eyes, "As I told you, I don't drink-"  
>"How can the Devil not drink!"<br>Beelze flicked his tail in annoyance, "Don't interrupt!"  
>Bender downed his beer artistically, dumping the whole glass in one opening in his mouth guard. He finished with an impressive belch of orange fire, "Listen, firetruck, I already paid for these drinks. I work long and hard to steal my keep, so when I'm paying you BETTER be drinkin'!"<br>"Do you even realize how ironic that last sentence was?"  
>"Its not ironic! It's just coinci- oh wait, it is..." Bender paused, attempting to formulate a plan.<p>

Finally he gave a dramatic sigh, then said with a voice of feigned distress "Well I guess I shoulda'  
>expected this. Not like a punk like you could stand for a few measly shots..."<br>Beelzebot mentally chuckled. The gray robot must be stupider than he looked. The red robot amusedly asked, "Oh?"  
>"Yep! Well, I guess that's just another way that little Ole me, Bender the Great, is awesome."<p>

The Robot Devil snorted as best a robot could "Its cute that you think  
>you can goad me with something as idiotic as that."<br>"Robot Santa could down a barrel of eggnog before they could finish the first verse of 'The Twelve Nights of X-Mas'..." Bender trailed off, "_HE_ said you such an old model your couldn't even _drink_ alcohol."  
>"That murderous jolly <strong>bastard<strong>!" RoboSatan outburst, infuriated. He slammed a blood-red fist on the table, surprising Bender.

Metallic claws grasped the previously untouched glass, while gray rounded fingers mirrored the move. Yellow eyes matched with white.  
>A robot harboring features similar to that of a timer announced for the duo loudly "3... 2... 1... GO!"<br>Bender lifted the glass, bracing for the bubbly taste that had become his casual companion over the many years. But just as the liquid had reached his mouth, the timer robot announced "WINNER!"

Bender spat out the alcohol he had just ingested. Sure enough, Beezlebot, elbows on the table casually and holding himself with pride, pushed away a clean beer glass with a flourish."Beat that!"  
>"What! No WAY!" the Bending unit slammed his fist onto the table<br>childishly, "I wanna rematch!"

"Do you?" the Robot Devil pretended to examine his claws, "Despite my own preferences, you might say I have something of a natural talent."

Bender, enraged, slammed down the money from his chest compartment and took another cup. "Rematch!"

XxXxXxXxX

A few hours later Bender was beginning to regret all the booze he had bought. Mainly because he was reaching the bottom of his money compartment.

"How do you _DO_ that?" He asked in awe.

Before he could blink (Not that he WOULD anyway. He didn't have any human need to keep his filthy human eyeballs moisturized) another round of beer disappeared forever into the Beezlebot's mechanic maw. The red robot gave a loud belch of blue fire, scaring away a timid 'bot that had been passing their table. He lazily wiped his fangs on his arm before slurring, "Its like I shaid- said, I have a natural talent! _Hic!_"

"Alright, I'll admit- Hey wait!" Bender narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "What was that last part?"

The RoboSatan, for the first time in Bender's memory, looked a little confused, "Natural talent?"

"No, the part after that! Was that a _hiccup_?"

Beezlebot gave a short, unusually high-pitched laugh, "I'm shure I have no-_hic_! Idea what yer talking about."

Bender gaped. This wasn't at all normal for this certain robot- or ANY robot for that matter. He tried to think of where he'd seen this behavior before. It reminded him of his meatbag co-workers! When he was feeling unusually kind and forced a few too many beer bottle into Leela's hands, or when he _pretended_ to give a few too many beers to Fry and the human _thought_ he had too much.

It clicked.

"Sweet mother of daffodil!" Bender gasped dramatically, "You're DRUNK!"

"Who're _you_ calling drunk!" Beezlebot accused, shifting clumsily in his seat.

Bender held out his hand demanding "Lemme see your manual!"

"It's in my other torso." The Robot Devil lied. Bender grumbled, reaching for the hidden sliding door that covered the other robot's chest compartment. Had Beezlebot been sober he could have easily overpowered Bender, but in this situation he was too disoriented to even swat the bending unit away.

The gray manbot forced a three-fingered hand into the chest compartment and scrounged for the Robot Devil's manual, earning drunken protests from the latter. Bender pulled out a booklet with a diagram of Beezlebot on the cover.

The bending unit scanned the pages, eyes widening, "Jeez! How old _ARE_ you?"

The red robot considered the question, burping slightly, "shix hundred 'n sheven? No wait! Eight hundred! It was shome time in the twunty-third or twunty-fourth shentury..."

Bender shook his head and turned back to the manual. Finding the section he was looking for, he focused his eyes on the chapter.

"_... RD-Prototype 00001 is a unit of original design and not maintained by state standards. Unlike the prototypes of robots that follow it, RD-Protoype 00001 does not operate on food or drink-like substances, and it is HIGHLY ADVIZED RD-Prototype 00001 does not allow such substances to enter his circuitry..."_

"Awwwwwww MAN!" Bender groaned, slapping his hand to his dome-like forehead, "What I'm I gonna do with the world's oldest, _drunkest_ robot!"

Said robot leaned to the bending unit, looking at him suspiciously, "Ya' know, you remind me of thish other guy I knew! But he was differen'! He wasn' two of 'imshelf..."

"Oy vey..."

Outside the Planet Express, Bender cursed himself for his stupid ideas.

Said bending unit was currently supporting the Robot Devil as he guided him in the now abandoned office. Bender used one arm to position the Robot Devil's own arm around his neck as the Beezlebot, while the other arm was curled around Beezlebot's waist, to keep the latter from lurching forward as gravity was trying to cause him to do at that moment.

The Plant Express HQ was the closest place Bender could think of. The LAST thing he wanted was to be spotted by anyone he knew, and Bender was most CERTAINLY not letting the commander or Robot Hell into his apartment.

It was on this unfortunate journey that Bender noticed something. He had never realized before that the Robot Devil's arms and legs were almost identical to Bender's. The same went for the fingers, wrist, and even the cylindrical style of the torso. Professor Farnsworth claimed to have come up with the original design that all modern robots came from. But, if the Robot Devil's manual was semi-accurate, Beezlebot was created before even the good Professor was born! Perhaps it was possible that said professor took some ideas from the RoboSatan's builders?

In that case, could Beezlebot be considered as Bender's greatly removed uncle?

The thought made his circuits crawl.

Bender kicked open the door to the lounge, "We thank you for staying at Hotel Planet Express, continental breakfast will be served at whenever the hell you wake up and make your lazy ass whatever you want."

"Oh, how much do I owe you?" Beelzebot said, unaware of the sarcasm in Bender's voice or the glare he received after speaking. Fortunately, the Robot Devil had sobered up enough to recover most of his proper speech functions, but still be blissfully unaware of everything around him.

"You know what?" RoboSatan asked, leaning more heavily on his unfortunate companion.

Bender didn't really want to know, but asked anyway, "What?"

"Yur'-Your a great guy!" The former said cheerfully, "Even though' your evil, y'know? Like, eviler than _ME_! Thats impressive! But- _Hic!_- Your all right!" Beelzebot finished his speech by giving Bender a friendly punch in the metal gut that sent the bending unit reeling.

Automatically, Beezlebot fell to the floor out cold, apparently shut-down for the rest of the night.

Bender sighed. He casually took the last beer out of his chest compartment and switched on the TV. After a swig from the bottle, he raised the beer in a one-man toast and sat back, resting both of his foot cups on the unconscious Beezlebot.

XxXxXxX

**END.**

**Yup, this has been my first Futurama story! Because there's not enough of Beelzy floating around here. Can be Slash if you squint really hard, but I'm young and meek and oh-so concerned with what people think, so its really not. Read and Review please!  
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